


hashtag chill

by SilverMoonT



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoonT/pseuds/SilverMoonT
Summary: Komori's gaze drops to Suna's lips. He finds himself unable to stop staring at Suna's eyes, he has said. But now, with his gaze lingering on Suna's mouth, he believes he's a shameless liar.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 24
Kudos: 88





	hashtag chill

**Author's Note:**

> #letkomorimotoyaflirt

Incoherent words being whispered in his ear, a lazy smile monopolizing his expression.

Komori couldn't be less interested in the person in front of him at that time, using the music of the club as an excuse to stay close, the mouth of said person brushing his ear and a glass being the only distance between them. He is used to it. In some way or another, he always ends up being the protagonist of those kinds of situations when the team wins games and therefore their names are followed by a good reputation. EJP has secured a place in the finals and it will be up to them and those who make up the Black Jackals team to fight for the championship title.

The music is loud, his senses are stunned but also developed, and yet, neither his attention nor his interest is in the person who at that moment still tries to win him over with the help of already known, recited beforehand words, since his eyes can only focus on Suna and in the fact that he is corresponding to his gaze instead of running his face when their eyes meet.

Komori turns his automatic smile into a truly entertaining gesture as Suna allowing their gazes to interlock despite the crowd and the different lights that illuminate the club, comes out as no surprise. Suna is with his head tilted, one of his elbows resting on the bar, no glass near him as well as he is not holding one between his fingers because they don’t need the influence of drinks to look into each other’s eyes. With attention, without haste, yet being aware of the silent words that the colors of their eyes articulate.

He only breaks with the eye contact to give a vague smile to the person in front of him, again not needing to part his lips and express words that will indicate that he is not interested, and in a matter of seconds he finds himself in front of Suna. He enjoys winning not only because obtaining the victory means holding a somewhat vain and proud smile, but also because it implies going out to celebrate and therefore having the excuse that at that moment he turns into a reality by resting his hand on Suna's nape to attract him to speak to him since the music is too loud.

"What's up with you?" Komori asks him, raising his voice because clubs are made for singing and dancing, not chatting with your teammate. "Eyeing me like that?" His breath strokes Suna’s ear before he pulls apart to look at him.

Suna leans in, lets himself get caught. "I could ask you the same question."

Komori allows a small laugh to escape his lips. He knows that Suna is right, since if he has glimpsed the way his eyes have rested on him, it's because he has also been paying attention to him instead of to any other person. In a way he feels compelled to do so, forced to leave his eyes on Suna because that is how it should be, and the way it is, on the volleyball court.

On that occasion he doesn’t move to bring his mouth to his ear again, but his hand continues on the back of his neck. His fingertips brush the beginning of dark chocolate strands that under the display of lights seem to be black.

"Are you jealous?" He asks him, knowing the answer.

"No, why would I be?" Suna mentions the words he had hoped for, and for the same reason Komori gives him a sincere smile. "I'm serious, why would I be jealous?"

"You consider me your teammate?" Komori asks without hesitation, as speaking words quickly is his way of staying focused in the conversation, though he remains aware that he is unable to ignore the fact that again, he finds himself in a situation where his face is inches from Suna's. "Just your teammate?" He clarifies, because they know they are teammates as they have decided to move together in order to live near the building where they train, because they want the same colors to win, and because now they have a final that they desire to claim as their own.

"I think you know the answer to that." Suna responds. They both know that being teammates is not what creates enough confidence to find themselves talking that way, centimeters being the distance between them, Komori's hand still on the back of his neck, his own hands having the possibility to find a place where to rest, where to touch, in case of deciding to move them. "Would you be jealous of me if I was the one on laying my eyes on different people?"

Komori wrinkles his nose. The mention of those words is not to his liking.

"I don't think so." Sincerity is that in accompanying his words, since when he thinks of Suna speaking with someone else, irritation is not the feeling that tightens his muscles. "I just want you to have a good time." He says, because that's the truth. "But I know you could have a good time with me, we could have a good time together."

Suna replaces the seriousness of his face with a playful smile.

"I am having a good time with you."

Komori remains lost in Suna's golden gaze, in his narrow eyes that again are decorated with black eyeliner. It’s easy to feel imprisoned by Suna, and he thinks that thought as an irony considering that he is aware that the concept of freedom is what allows them to pull and push, to take and to give. They don’t demand but the looks between them are not casual. The intentions of their pupils don’t imply malice, and yet they don’t consider themselves completely neutral either.

"Suna, what are we?"

Suna doesn't seem impressed with the pronunciation of that question.

He arches an eyebrow and parts his lips to mention words that are not a surprise to him either. His relationship with Suna doesn’t have the possibility of being described. There are no surprises but it’s not familiar territory either. No kind of words are capable of taking on the sensations that run through his body when he is with him, and Komori believes that this is where the fun is.

"What do you want us to be?"

"I don't know, for real, I don't know." He answers, because when he thinks of Suna, his facial features don’t appear under a certain word. "Whatever you want us to be, teammates when we play together, best friends when we hang out the second we step out of the court, maybe more than best friends because I want to kiss you and that's the truth." He decides to add, and any chance of regret is vanished when Suna smiles. "Why one thing has to take away the other? Why can't we be all of them?"

Komori wonders why being friends can’t involve holding hands and sharing kisses, why people always talk about the boundaries between friendship and love instead of taking both words as part of the same group. Suna is his teammate but he doesn’t behave with him in the same way he does with the rest of their teammates. He trusts those who wear the same colors as him once they are on the volleyball court because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to be part of a team, but Suna is the one who remains as his confidant once numbers are no longer on their backs.

"I want to celebrate the team’s victory with you." Suna says because that's what teammates do, celebrate together when a victory is the result, and cheer each other up when a defeat is the consequence. "But I don't want to wake up tomorrow, scared because one night ruined our friendship."

For them, celebrating means more than high-fives and blissful smiles.

"I think our friendship is stronger than one night's mistake, don't you think so?" Komori believes that finally, in one way or another, the intentions of their gazes are accompanied with words expressed aloud instead of just being thought. He takes one step ahead and Suna doesn't back off, and the hand that is still on Suna’s nape doesn’t apply pressure nor does it stop being on his skin. "Besides, it doesn't have to be a one night thing, nor a mistake."

Suna bites his lower lip.

Komori doesn't lower his gaze because staring at Suna is not a luxury everyone has, a sight everyone can think of as a found treasure.

"Can't we just be Rintarou and Komoya?" Suna asks him. "That's what I want us to be. Ourselves. No terms, no supposed levels to unlock, no words that will define a status, just you and me." He proposes, since he believes that if neither he nor Komori feel familiar with the definition of envy, it’s because they don't find themselves looking for categories under which to place the relationship between the two. "The two of us, having a good time."

Komori lifts one corner of his mouth because Suna understands him.

They don’t seek to challenge the boundaries between friendship and love, but to erase them, to get rid of those because they believe that they shouldn’t even exist. "I don't see why not."

"Is this how you planned to end this night?"

"With the prettiest boy I've ever met right in front of me?"

Suna rolls his eyes but his smile never leaves his face. "Oh, stop it."

"I don't know." He is not characterized by planning his actions or thinking about his words in advance. "But I don’t feel like I want to complain."

"Neither do I, but people bother me you know, they talk." Suna casts a look around him, certainly serious as his eyes travel unknown faces before he looks back at him again. "Look to generate rumors."

"They have to chill," Komori expresses because he understands his words. "We have to chill." He proposes. He thinks that although he and Suna are not tense, and on the contrary, Suna is used to the hand on his nape in the same way that they have both forged the habit of staring at each other without feeling that their cheeks are decorated by a red tint, anyway they end up being carried away by what others may think.

"Hashtag chill."

The two of them tune the noise of their laughter with the music that continues to be their company that night. Relationships shouldn’t always be characterized by misunderstandings, exchanges of serious glances, and phrases that leave a lot to think about, since sometimes, confidence is enough to think that from the opportunity presented by playing for the same team, there is a chance to take advantage of that trust to transform the situation into something more intriguing, more fun, and not necessarily more confusing.

"You haven't answered my question yet," Komori reminds him. "What's up with you, eyeing me like that?" He repeats.

"I told you I could ask you the same question."

"I asked first."

Komori narrows his gaze as Suna decorates his face with an amused smile.

"What makes you think I was looking at you? Maybe I was looking at the person who was with you."

"I don't believe you." Komori states with confidence.

Suna raises both eyebrows and tilts his head to then lower his gaze at the same time that he takes one of his hands to accommodate the collar of the blue shirt Komori is wearing. "I was thinking that this shirt looks good on you," He says, Komori knowing that Suna’s fingers sliding through the fabric is not a coincidence as that movement is not necessary to fix the collar of said item, nor is the fact that he takes in his favor the absence of the first buttons to brush his skin with the tips of his fingers.

"And I think you chose this choker on purpose."

Gently, he brushes the thin gold necklace around Suna's neck to slide his hand forward and slightly tug on it, feeling the way any attempted phrase gets caught in Suna's throat once he swallows as his knuckles have found their place on his collarbone. If Suna already attracts attention, having decided to wear black to allow the necklace around his neck to steal all the looks, gets his presence to be even more appealing.

"But," Komori stops holding the choker to once again rest his hand on the back of his neck and look at him. "I think the most beautiful thing is what I'm seeing now."

With the meeting and the separation of his eyelashes, Suna makes it clear that deciding to use eyeliner is always a good decision, especially when he adds some golden glitter above it; a detail that only someone with the luck of Komori would be able to glimpse.

"I didn't think you would notice."

Komori smiles.

He is not surprised. Turning volleyball into their professional lives has led them to train in order to stay in shape. The games played offer them new experiences while the trainings give them new strength. More defined muscles, bruises on knees, tape around fingers. For Komori it’s not a surprise that in addition to playing volleyball, Suna is contacted to promote makeup.

"I'm more than sure that you adored making that photoshoot, the one with the eyeliners, remember?" He says, confident in his words as he remembers the excited smile that had taken over Suna’s expression once the makeup company had contacted him to make a photoshoot after noticing that eyeliner around his eyes is is a constant feature like the phone in his hands.

"Well, of course."

"I'm not surprised," Komori expresses what he thinks. "You have pretty eyes."

Suna blinks and Komori firmly believes he has told nothing but the truth.

Again Suna has allowed a black line to enhance the golden color of his gaze, a hue that is often mistaken for green because the indicated angle and the perfect evening are enough for the color of his eyes to be difficult to define. Tired yet sharp eyes. Komori doesn’t lie. After a game, the corners of his eyes represent happiness in case the numbers indicate the advantage for them. When there is still time to arrive and the bus is silent because they haven’t gotten the victory, his eyes are certainly lost after being distracted with the urban landscape. At that moment, with the play of lights mixing with the darkness of the club.

"Really?"

Eyes that Komori has gotten used to looking at, to admiring.

"Yes."

"You too." Suna expresses instead of blushing.

Because in the same way that Komori has become accustomed to resting his eyes on him, his head wondering if he will once again feel overshadowed by Suna's gaze, Suna has forged the habit of corresponding to his gaze, and therefore, once again have the opportunity to allow his eyes to meet a grayish color, often thought of as blue, many times thought of as light-blue.

"You say it just because."

Komori doesn’t believe his own words. He is aware that Suna doesn’t know how to lie, and on the contrary, he is innocently (many other times on purpose), blunt.

"I mean it." Suna leans closer to him to be able to strengthen up his words. They keep looking at each other because they know what it's like to create new chances for their eyes to meet without any kind of set time limit. The palm of Suna's hand spreads on his chest. "They are very light-blue."

Komori raises both eyebrows. "Very light-blue."

Suna wrinkles his nose.

"Oh, sorry." Komori rolls his eyes. Just as irony often accompanies his vocabulary, Suna never misses the chance to decorate his words with sarcasm. "They're light-blue like the water of the most crystalline beach, like the sky on the best spring day." He says without being able to keep his laughter, and Komori laughs too. "I really mean it."

This is the game between them.

There is no ball passing over the net since both have their respective EJP jackets, and there are no glances that indicate that one will win while the other will lose; but others that express confidence created after wanting the same colors to be the ones to succeed. The words between them are a round trip of honesty, trust, and sarcasm, and yet, the boundaries between sincerity and lack of shame are often crossed, trespassed. Because limits that exist, are limits that they seek to challenge, bring down.

"Thank you," He says, and finally ends the eye contact. "People laughed at me, you know, because of my eyebrows." Komori tells him. "There's always something to talk about, and when it wasn't about Kiyoomi's wrists, it was about my eyebrows, so no one paid attention to my eyes."

Suna looks at him and then hums. "People laughed at me because of my eyes."

Komori looks up again, this time, in surprise. "Really?"

"Really." Suna assures him. "Because you don't know what color they are, and a lot of times they said I was weird for that. But once I met Atsumu that ended, no one noticed me anymore because his hair color was disgusting enough to get all the attention." He adds before laughing, getting Komori to do it too.

"I notice because they are pretty." Komori doesn’t doubt to express as it‘s never a bad time to mention out loud how lucky he is to have unlimited chances to match his gaze with Suna's. "And now everyone understands me because you were called to make a photoshoot with eyeliners. It’s impossible not to stare."

With most people, he doesn’t usually develops in that way, without having to think about the sequences of the words that leave his lips and without stopping to reason about what he is saying. A kind smile tends to decorate his face and Sakusa teases him for the same reason since for his cousin, he’s quite a show (Sakusa stops complaining as soon as he mentions that in the same way, he pretends not to be interested in Atsumu). Perhaps pretending and being honest is a possible combination demonstrated by their family.

But with Suna it's different, he is different, because Suna is just like him.

Sometimes a knowing look is enough, while other times, words loaded with the same amount of play and honesty are all it takes to make it clear that for both, boundaries don’t always have to be extremely rigid. Komori compliments, Suna doesn't hesitate to reciprocate.

And again, Suna reciprocates his flirtation, "Well, I don't care about that. As long as you look at them that's fine."

Komori wants to laugh at the irony.

He is the libero of the team, the player who looks at the backs of his teammates because that concentration is what allows him to intuit movements and therefore plays. He’s the person behind, waiting, getting ready to receive; and for the same reason he knows that if he has stopped counting the occasions in which his eyes have met Suna's, it’s because they have both decided to create the same opportunities. His cousin tells him that he pretends to be a saint when in fact he is not, and for the first and only time, Komori has no choice but to agree with him.

"I have a problem, though. Sometimes it’s difficult to look at your eyes."

It’s impossible not to stare, he has expressed.

But well, after all, no one is completely honest.

"Why?" Suna asks him.

"Because, sometimes, my eyes just..." Komori's gaze drops to Suna's lips.

He finds himself unable to stop staring at Suna's eyes, he has said.

But now, with his gaze lingering on Suna's mouth, he believes he's a shameless liar.

"Do you consider that a problem?" Suna asks him.

Komori sees him again. He doesn't need to rest his gaze on his lips for a second time to know that Suna has figured him out well enough to play the same game with the same rules.

"Is it?" He asks in return.

"What if I do the same?"

A smile tugs at the corner of Komori’s mouth the instant Suna's eyes fall to see the same gesture. "Well," Suna taps his finger against his chest to then wrap his arm around his neck. "Every problem needs a solution, doesn't it?"

Suna frowns, feigning disorientation at his words.

"And what kind of solution do you propose exactly?"

The few millimeters between their faces are not unusual, they have turned their closeness into their friend as well as they have transformed friendship and the exchange of intentional words into synonyms.

"We are teammates, aren't we?"

Komori tours the contour of his body by lowering his hand from his nape to his waist.

"Teamwork is the solution." Suna says, and his lips are captured with immediacy.

Their gazes no longer find each other as they close their eyes so as not to allow their colors to be a distraction for the feeling of satisfaction that accompanies them once they finally make it clear that a simple friendship, is not the definition of their relationship after turning the play of words into a kiss. Komori is more than a guiltless smile in the same way that Suna's facial features represent more than being constantly illuminated by his phone screen.

Komori wraps his arm around Suna's waist and Suna adds his other arm around his neck. As Suna has defined, the very light-blue of Komori's gaze reappears once a mere millimeter is that to part their lips.

"I don't care what other says, and we don't have to define something we don't want to as long as it's you and me, yeah?"

Again the dubious and difficult-to-define color of Suna’s eyes is what his gaze finds, but this time, instead of words accompanied with his same intentions, phrases are those to remain absent when a nod and a second kiss is his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
